


Searching for Something that Explains

by Telesilla



Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-07
Updated: 2009-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I should probably warn for ellipse abuse; sorry about that, but it's inevitable when you have two people, neither of whom seem comfortable with their emotions, talking over each other.</p><p> </p><p>The title is from the Aimee Mann song "Say Anything." My thanks to <a href="http://darkrosetiger.livejournal.com/">darkrosetiger</a> for looking over my shoulder and pointing out mistakes while I wrote this; anything she missed is my fault for continuing to poke at it after she went to sleep.</p></blockquote>





	Searching for Something that Explains

"You smell that? It's propane...it's filling the room. And if you pull that trigger...we both die."

 

"Goddamn you, Scofield," Alex says, leaving the gun where it is but relaxing his grip on it.

 

Michael comes in close and Alex hates him just a little. It's not being in the cage, although God knows that's bad enough. It's the way that Michael looks at him, the way he sees Alex in a way no one else can. It's not that he sees Shales; any number of people know about Shales--too many people in Alex's opinion. It's not that he sees the anger and tension that twist underneath Alex's skin, or the sudden craving for the artificial calm of his pills.

 

No, Michael _sees_ Alex. And because of that, Michael knows Alex, knows that Alex won't--can't--pull the trigger. It has nothing to do with the propane that they can both smell now, and it has nothing to do with bringing Michael in for a fair trial. They're long past the latter, way off the map and into the badlands. As for the former, that Alex is hanging onto life and sanity with an increasingly tenuous grip is obvious to anyone with the eyes to see.

 

Alex won't kill Michael because killing Michael means that he'll never know how Michael's mind works. Oh he knows some of it, enough to always be a step behind Michael, but he doesn't know it all and that eats at him more than the remains of Oscar Shales under the bird bath, or the loss of Pam and his boy. And while Mahone wants desperately to win, to fucking beat Michael at his own game, it goes  
deeper than that.

 

It comes down to the fact that people don't understand Alex. They think he's a bastard and a jerk, and they're right, of course. What they don't get is that he doesn't do it deliberately or because he's some kind of sadist, it's just that he gets so goddamn frustrated because people are so slow. Even dealing with the intelligent, well-trained men and women of the FBI is like swimming in molasses for Alex, and ordinary people drive him...well, crazy.

 

Alex knows that Michael should be as crazy as Alex, should be as brusque and impatient with people, and yet he doesn't seem to be like that. Somehow, Michael knows how to care, not just about people he's come to love or know, but about people in general. It should be a weakness, but it's not, and there's just no way that Alex can kill him before he understands him.

 

Of course, Alex is very much aware of the irony. If he does learn what it is that Michael does to deal with living on a planet populated with morons, learns how the whole empathy thing works when you can't really relate to people all that well...well he won't be able to pull the trigger, will he? After all, Michael can't.

 

"I can't let you go," Alex says. "I _can't,_" he repeats, knowing that Michael can hear what he's saying.

 

"I don't think it's up to you," Michael says. "You're the one in the cage." It would be cruel but the way that he looks at Alex, his eyes alert and sharp, makes his meaning clear.

 

"I can't let go," Alex says, and he swallows hard, pressing his empty hand against the chain link. "I know what I...but I can't."

 

Moving slowly, as if he were approaching a half-wild animal, Michael stretches out his hand and Alex shudders as warmth overlaps the cold of the metal between their hands. "Scofield," Alex says, his voice low and hoarse.

 

"Michael," Michael says. "It's Michael, Alex."

 

"Don't," Alex says, not moving. "You can't...I'm not the kind of...." He falls silent, unable to resist stroking a finger along the palm of Michael's hand.

 

"Oh," Michael says, his eyes going wide. "I never...God, I'm an idiot...."

 

Alex can't help feel a moment of triumph; for once he's ahead of Michael. But then Michael's tongue runs over his full lower lip and Alex isn't sure if it due to nerves or desire, but he can feel the breath leave his chest in a sudden rush. "Michael...." he says, leaning his forehead against the fence. "This...I didn't mean for you to know...."

 

This time he isn't interrupted by Michael understanding him before he finishes the sentence, but by Michael's body pressing against the chain link. Alex lifts his head up and finds that Michael's mouth, the mouth Alex has been dreaming about ever since that day in the elevator, is right there, level with Alex's. Suddenly the fence doesn't matter, they're managing to kiss around it, through it, over it.... Alex isn't really sure but he really doesn't care much either, because Michael's hunger obviously matches Alex's and he's moaning into Alex's mouth and pressing up against Alex and it's so fucking good that Alex is sure he's going to come any second now..

 

He's saved--if you can call it that--by sudden pain as he turns and his nose catches on the fence. "Fuck!"

 

"Sorry," Michael says, his body still close and warm. "What do we...?

 

"Michael?"

 

Alex sees Sarah Tancredi over Michael's shoulder and he glances back at Michael quickly. He's seen the look on Michael's face before, back in the elevator when the squirt gun dropped to the floor. "Sarah," Michael begins and then he goes silent, his eyes closing as he steps away from the fence and Alex.

 

"Go," Alex says. Sarah looks from him to Michael, and he can see the confusion on her face. For a moment he remembers the same look on Pam's face as she watched him become a stranger in front of her very eyes. "Here," he says, pulling his keys out of his pocket. "Take my car; Kellerman will be tracking your rental."

 

"But you," Michael says. "You know things that we need to know." He looks at Alex and Alex can guess what he's thinking.

 

_ You can help us and if you do, I won't have to choose yet._

 

"They watch him, my boy," Alex explains. "Pam doesn't know about it, but Kellerman's people, the Company...."

 

"So it's not about Shales?"

 

"Oh no, it's about him too." _Didn't I tell Apolskis that confession was good for the soul?_ "You were right about that, of course."

 

"I'm sorry," Michael says, and he is; Alex can see it in his eyes. "I should never have taunted you with that."

 

Suddenly they aren't speaking the same language and Alex frowns. "You were doing what you had to do to get me off your trail, what you had to do to win." He makes an impatient gesture. "You need to go now."

 

"I don't understand any of this," Sarah says, but there's something in her voice that rings just a little false.

 

"You do understand that your father did not kill himself?" Alex asks, keeping his voice as gentle as he can, more for Michael's sake than hers. "That there's a hell of a lot more at stake here than a prison break out?" He doesn't let her answer. "You two don't have time for this."

 

Grabbing up his iron bar, Michael wrenches the door open. "T-Bag has Westmoreland's money and he's looking for revenge." He looks  
from the bar to Alex and Alex shakes his head.

 

"Right here," he says, tapping his jaw. "Hard but only with your fist."

 

"Alex," Michael says, his fist already clenching. "I don't know what's going on with...earlier."

 

"Neither do I," Alex says. "But, between the two of us, I'm sure we'll figure it out."

 

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably warn for ellipse abuse; sorry about that, but it's inevitable when you have two people, neither of whom seem comfortable with their emotions, talking over each other.
> 
>  
> 
> The title is from the Aimee Mann song "Say Anything." My thanks to [darkrosetiger](http://darkrosetiger.livejournal.com/) for looking over my shoulder and pointing out mistakes while I wrote this; anything she missed is my fault for continuing to poke at it after she went to sleep.


End file.
